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High Priestess and Flag-Maker
Baron Huinesoron stood in front of the line of flagpoles, looking up at the banners flapping in the wind. "They're... alarmingly good," he admitted. Ye Scape-Grace gave him something that can only be described as a leer, but her tone reflected none of it. "Surely this is because the great Spelin Tam-Ara hath guided mine hand," she declared. "Praise be to the Well-Written Word of Spelin." "Er, yes." Huinesoron glanced at the Temple Warden's great hook-headed staff. "Praise be. Um..." "Thou seemest uncertain, o faithful Son of the Temple," Ye Scape-Grace said pleasantly. "Tell me what ails thee, and by mine art I shall strive to aid thee." "Don't push it," the Baron muttered. "But... two questions. Why is Baron Phobos' flag on a spear?" "Ha!" Phobos strode in from the westward road. "Just the sort of question I would expect from you. I have a spear because I am a warrior!" The bearded Baron grabbed hold of the flagpole and yanked it from the earth, waving it overhead. Baron Neshomeh came scurrying up behind him. "Put it down, dear," she chided, "you're going to hit someone." "Quite the picture they make," Huinesoron murmured as Phobos planted the spear back in the ground. "I guess that answers that." "Strange are the workings of Spelin," Ye Scape-Grace agreed. "Open thy heart and mind to me, and She will answer all that you might ask." "Right." Huinesoron pursed his lips. "So... why do we need these flags? We've already got coats of arms." "And fair indeed they are, if a trifle overwrought." Ye Scape-Grace lowered her hood and gazed up at the flags. "But they serve only to identify the knights who bear them, while these can serve as standards for an entire army - or to symbolise a Barony in the halls of Otik." "I'm... not entirely convinced," Huinesoron admitted. "But they are very good." "Indeed they are!" Sir Hardric, bearing his own shield of the eagle, sword, quill, and die, pushed through the crowd to the front. "And as a faithful convert to the worship of Spelin, I demand more!" "More?" Ye Scape-Grace blinked. "Tha says what?" "Oui, more!" Sir Hardric turned, arms outspread. "Let every Knight of Plort have a banner to call their own, that they may wave above the battlefields of the League and strike terror into the hearts of the Marizu! And-" He seemed lost for a moment, before rounding on Baron Huinesoron. "And let each and everyone one of us be commemorated in portraiture!" he cried. "For all know the work of Baron Huinesoron, how he has decked the castle formerly known as Retben in artwork of his own making; let him share the skills of his art with all, and not stop until every knighted soul of this isle is remembered." Baron Huinesoron and Ye Scape-Grace shared a look which was, for once, in perfect accord. Huinesoron took a deep breath. "That's... an interesting idea, Sir Hardric..." Category:Tales of Plort